


a complete mess walks into the bar of a dangerously perceptive and infuriatingly handsome man

by rieunn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, And he doesn't like it, Arguing, Aromantic Jake English, But he doesn't know that, Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, Denial of Feelings, Dirk has no Problems Pointing Any of his Issues out, Emotional Manipulation, Frustration, He's Reaping the Consequences for His Actions, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bar talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26475034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieunn/pseuds/rieunn
Summary: Jake doesn't understand why everything has to have a label attached to it. He'd much rather go around never having to define anything, living in a place void of responsibility or consequence, where nothing ever changes. Including himself. Dirk isn't so keen on watching that happen, and does what he can for the regular he's become infatuated with over the months. Whether or not his words and actions are in any way helpful has yet to be determined.
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 16





	a complete mess walks into the bar of a dangerously perceptive and infuriatingly handsome man

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short thing I wrote for my creative writing class and is lengthed somewhere between flash fiction and a short story. The prompt was "unreliable narrator," and it sort of took a path of its own as I started writing. Fun fact: I don't even _like_ DirkJake so rip hagsajsdakl-

“She even had the gall to start crying! I _told_ her when we started. I’m not really into _relationships._ I want to be with someone, but not like that. It was awful presumptuous of her, Dirk. _Awful_ presumptuous.” Jake swills his whisky with a face already turning red – partially from frustration, partially from already having downed several glasses.

“... Isn’t any prolonged interaction with someone else a relationship, though, if you really think about it?” his strange bar companion asks. His silvery hair is slicked back and up, and he’s always wearing these stupid, stupid shades that Jake hasn’t ventured to ask about and yet has always tried to stare through. In the dingy bar light, uncomfortably cool instead of warm, his skin is misty grey, and it’s just another shiver down Jake’s laden spine.

Jake laughs. “No! God, no. Not at all, my dear friend. It’s simply not the same. It’s all about the labels, you see. You can be with someone without any labels, though clearly some people just can’t seem to get that through their noggins! It’s not the same,” he repeats, becoming more exasperated by the moment. Dirk always does this. He always asks questions. Inquiry after inquiry – all with a purpose, Jake has come to see. All with the purpose of making Jake “realize” he is wrong and Dirk is right. Always, always. Jake is sick of it. He doesn’t say this.

He continues to sit there and takes another icy gulp.

“Why would you choose to get involved with people at all, then, if you find them so difficult?” There he goes again. Won’t he ever learn to shut up when Jake is complaining? He doesn’t say this, either. He sighs, leaning back in his bar chair, looking up at the cracks in the ceiling as he loosens his tie, suddenly far too hot for comfort.

“It’s just the way of things. People exist to be with – we need each other to not feel like we’re gettin’ off our rockers. You know, biology, instincts, and all that mess.”

It’s silent for a moment. Only a moment, as ever it is, when one is with Dirk. Dirk, who won’t shut up. Dirk, who never officially closes the bar before Jake shows up after his late-night shifts. Dirk, who looks at him with those cold, analytical eyes.

Jake, who can’t see them, doesn’t have the courage to ask why.

“... I think you want to be in a relationship, but you find it scary, and you dislike communicating your needs. You should just admit it. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“But I don’t want to be in a relationship! I’ve _told_ you, dammit!”

“... Jake. Are you serious, right now?”

“Yes! I bloody well am! ... Stop looking at me like that. Like I’m stupid.”

“I’m not looking at you any kind of way.”

“You are. I can see it.”

“I’m not. I just care about you.”

That statement is loaded and even Jake, who can’t quite wrap his mind around it, can feel it, no matter how dense he is. His heart does something extremely uncomfortable in his chest and it reaches his stomach and ends with him suppressing a full-body shudder. He looks down at his glass. Avoidant. Evasive. Standoffish fingers wrapped around a too-cold glass that chills all the way to his bones, but it calms him.

“... I’m fine, Dirk. Contrary to popular belief, I know what I want and what I don’t want. That’s why I turned her down. I mean, she was awful pretty – had quite a rack on her and dark, dark hair – and she was really sweet in bed and had a smile that stretched all pleasant-like. _Awful_ pretty. And it was very fun being with her. But... she told me all that and, well. What was I supposed to say?”

“You could have offered to take it slow.” Jake sees fire, and when he does it lashes out at him and starts to trickle into his veins.

“Bah, slow! There you go again! Saying such nonsensical things. Strider, I _fucked_ the lass. Hard. Multiple times. Made her scream, tied her up, came in her mouth. There’s no slowing down from that, you ass.” Dirk is unnaturally quiet. Just for a moment. Only ever for a moment. Jake can’t take it. Why won’t he leave him be? Why won’t he let it drop? Why isn’t he ever deterred? Jake wants to deter him. Jake wants to frustrate Dirk as much as he frustrates him. The fire inside of him grows hotter.

“It’s a different kind of road, though. Separate. You could have taken the relationship thing slow, is what I’m trying to say. You always just run away. You could have controlled the situation and steered it in your favor while not burning the bridge between the two of you.”

The fire can no longer be contained. In a flash, Jake has him by his collar, veins popping, hands shaking, jaw clenched.

He doesn’t even quite know why he’s so mad.

“Would you PLEASE STOP!? You act like you know more about me than I do! I know things! I know _myself!_ I know what I _want,_ dammit! I do! I’ve told you, already, so many times! So, would you fucking leave it already?! For fuck’s sake...”

The shaking has stopped, but now his ears are ringing. His voice had been loud, so loud. Too loud, in his own ears. A screaming falseness.

Dirk is quiet for a much longer time. Jake’s fingers are still curled in his shirt when he begins to speak. Soft. “... I just think that you’re not thinking about this so clearly. If you don’t want romance, that’s cool. There are lots of people who can dig that. But platonic-sexual relationships exist as well. And - before you say anything - yes, they _are_ relationships, of sorts. You can’t just fuck a buddy to the stars and back regularly for five goddamn years and leave each time sayin’ that there’s nothing at all between the two of you. Or, say, get upset when that person develops feelings for you. The lines are blurry, sure, but they’re there, dude.

“People are people and they change all the time. And sometimes they don’t always know what they want until shit’s already hit the goddamn fan and exploded everywhere. So... I’m sayin’ all of this to say I just think it was kind of unfair of you to call her a bitch for saying she loved you and that she ‘ruined’ things. Especially since you clearly didn’t actually think that badly of her and the reality is just that her own personal feelings had changed and you’re upset that you can’t continue with the relationship dynamic being as it had been without hurting her. I mean, hell, dude. Did you even fuckin’ tell her from the start that you didn’t want anything more than a good fuck? Did she know that?”

Jake’s shaking again. All he can manage is a curt, seethed _“She did.”_

But she didn’t. Jake had said he didn’t usually do relationships when asked at the bar that night when they met. Hinted at it when she asked him to stay and he told her he was busy, made plans. Skirted around it when she asked to go out with him a. He never called for anything other than what he wanted – what he _needed._ He had thought she would make the proper assumptions.

She didn’t.

And Dirk is right.

And Dirk is _always_ right.

_Mother of fuck._

He doesn’t address anything else Dirk has said, for fear of his temper truly spiraling out of control and making it so that he does something that might get him badly injured or arrested, but he can’t look away. Can’t make himself unfurl his fingers. Can’t make himself back down, calm down, can’t make himself fucking _breathe_.

The bastard _smirks._

“... I’m right, and somewhere deep down, you know that.”

“I hate you. I hate you so much I’d rather like to see you dead right now.” It’s true. It isn’t true. Jake isn’t sure which it is because Dirk’s leaning up, leaning into his space, and it’s all very sudden, and it’s all very foreign, and it’s all he can manage to notice.

Dirk, the absolute madman that he is, kisses him.

But Jake is even madder for kissing him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what this is. Thanks for reading!


End file.
